“Wait a second,” Tristan stopped us in our tracks.
“What’s up?” I asked, curiosity piqued.
With a flourish, Tristan produced a box so opulent it almost shimmered. He opened it to reveal several swords, their blades gleaming with an almost eerie brilliance.
“Swords?” I raised an eyebrow, puzzled by their sudden appearance.
“For protection, in case she has more troops than we anticipated. I’m giving you all matching swords. They aren’t made from meteorite iron, but they’re just as formidable,” Tristan explained, urgency coloring his voice.
The weight of the moment hit me as I picked up one of the swords. It felt perfectly balanced, its hilt cool and reassuring in my grip. I could see the determination in Tristan’s eyes, the way his jaw was set with resolve.
“Are we really expecting tha
